


Open up

by starryshark



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sapnap mention, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), and a whore, george is emotionally constipated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryshark/pseuds/starryshark
Summary: George is bad at expressing himself, Dream is the opposite.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 602





	Open up

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fan fiction I’ve ever written so I apologise if it’s a bit awkward at times, especially the porn.
> 
> Also obviously don’t send this to any of the creators involved. Take into account that these are real people and the characters in the fic do not reflect them. They have given their explicit permission for nsfw fan fiction to be written about them :)

George was bad at expressing, well, anything really. 

Warmth rested on his arm. The thick rays of gold seeping through the angled blinds of the London apartment colouring his skin an obnoxious shade of yellow. George felt like the sun was teasing him, trying to deceive its recipient into thinking that anything but the grey, wet streets of British winter waited behind those blinds. 

George had sort of always been bad at expressing things. Not that he was completely joyless and emotionally closed off - he laughed just as much as any other person. More even, when the awareness of thousands of eyes on him made adrenaline rush through his veins. But joy was comfortable. Happiness was easy to understand. Laughter came naturally.

Plus, emoting for entertainment didn’t really count, it wasn’t real. Stream George and real life George were two vastly different people. A slender finger moved the cursor across the laptop screen in swift motion. He stared at the video editing program in front of him. The soft tick of a clock in the distance trickled into the room. His gaze stayed unmoving. Colours mixed together in the thumbnail at the corner of the screen as a clip was replayed. George sighed.

It was everything else, everything that wasn’t either electrifying joy or still timidness, that he had a harder time with. Being vulnerable - in any sense of the word - seemed like so much work, not to mention the mortifying affair of being judged on the premise of something as subjective as feelings. No, the proposition of letting anyone probe into his emotional state, whether through verbal or bodily expression, seemed almost cringe-worthy to him. Better was it to simply keep anything pertaining to the matter to yourself, conveying as little as possible to the outside world.

But, sometimes, slivers of dense, balmy yellow honesty would touch upon his skin like obnoxious rays of sunlight, vehemently tearing through his cold neutrality, from somewhere else. Somewhere grand. Someone golden. Someone who couldn’t keep a single drop of emotion from slipping from his grasp even if his life depended on it. 

George pressed down at the lid of the laptop and leaned back in his chair, tired hands rubbing over his face. It was 10am. He had been awake for 7 hours. Having friends from across the pond was fun until you had the sleep schedule of a binman on sleeping pills. He moved to stand up and leave the room, when the distinct buzz of a text notification vibrated softly in his pocket. 

Morning! Can you join vc plsss 

George quickly stifled the warmth spreading in his chest as he read the message. Speak of the devil. 

“George!”, Dream’s voice echoed with delight through the speakerphone. There they were, those syrupy darts of sincerity. They penetrated through his chest, this time with such rapidness that suppressing the heat was near impossible. George surrendered, letting the warmth spread.

“Dream.”, he didn’t dare try to replicate them.

The american voice started babbling excitedly with that faintly nervous twang that Dream always seemed to reveal to some extent. It was curious, George thought, how a man could seem so overly confident and insecure at the same time; like he was overly aware of how much of himself he was laying out bare in every breath but with no intent, or rather knowledge of how to stop it. George chuckled silently at how ridiculous he found Dream, and perhaps a little at himself for being so charmed by him. 

“Are you laughing?”, Dream paused, his tone slightly injured.

“Sorry, just thought of something funny. You were saying?”, George noted on the shift in his voice. He could hear Dream frowning through the microphone as he huffed. 

“Seriously George, this is important. If you’re actually coming next week we need to book that airbnb like, now.”

“Yeah, yeah sorry.”, a timid response, “Um, that one with the big garden looked nice?”

“You don’t even go outside” Dream snorted. 

“Rude! I went outside yesterday…”

“For the first time in what, 7 days?”

After a short pause, George muttered “Six…”. Dream burst out laughing. 

“Alright”, he wheezed, “You’ve convinced me, actually, we’re getting the garden one just so I can easily shove you outside once in a while.”

Fear-riddled excitement whirled in his head. The trip to florida had been pushed quite far back on the George-thought-itinerary. Not that he wasn’t looking forward to it, because he was. However, the thought of not only facing, but having to ward off those heaps of amber in person was simply too anxiety inducing to even consider. He trusted, however, that not even Dream could budge the vaulted door that kept whatever feeling made him so afraid of Dream’s earnestness hid away. George was bad at expressing himself, and thankful for it. Plus, it would be nice to escape the British weather. 

\--------

The garden was larger in person than expected, and it seemed like it had only grown more lushious since the pictures on the website had been taken. George, however, was more concerned with a different issue, that also happened to be bigger than expected. 

After having finally pulled both of his huge bags out of the packed baggage claim hall and out to where taxi drivers and family members alike awaited arrivals, George had been standing face to face with a mountain. George had recalled Sapnap’s text when he himself had met with the giant. 

Dude dream is so fucking tall its actually scary

Standing there, George thought the message was an understatement. Dream was huge, and hot. Tousled, blond hair and a wide smile shone down at him, as if he was looking straight into the sun. While completely paralyzed, long, strong arms had enveloped him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Dream’s laugh shook his very core, and George had come out of the hug slightly winded and feverently trying to hide the burning he felt cross his cheeks. He had only managed to calm himself once they were in the car.

Worse even than Dream’s outstanding physical appearance was his mannerisms. Languid movements accentuated every sentence, brows furrowed at any mild inconvenience and the entire room vibrated with his laugh, every particle dancing in rhythm with his joy. Dream himself was completely oblivious to his own raw energy, grabbing a hold of George’s arm in moments of excitement or shoving at him in annoyance at a bad joke. George felt as if he was swimming in a sea of emotional molten gold, every reaction Dream displayed a wave that crashed against him. It was suffocating. It was intoxicating. It was mortifying. George had fallen completely head over heels. 

Luck had not completely forsaken him, however. It was subtle, but George couldn’t help but notice how Dream would leave lingering touches on his hands when he handed George a controller, or how he would sometimes catch him looking at him, if only for a moment. George didn’t know if Dream actually knew himself. George didn’t even know if he was right. But when Dream smiled at him with his entire face he couldn’t help but to hope. It was just them, after all. Two young men, alone in a house together.

\----

The bed sank as a second weight placed itself next to where George sat huddled up with his phone. Dream leaned against the wall next to him, as he rubbed his eye with one hand. George observed the movement silently, admiring how the muscles of his hand moved. When the other looked back at him, he surprised himself by keeping his gaze steady, meeting green eyes. 

Dream raised his eyebrows, “What?”. A small smile rested on his lips.

“Um…nothing.”, his bravery petered out and eyes darted back to the small screen in his hand.

After two weeks of staying together, the event had become liturgical. Dream would come and sit on his bed right before they headed to bed, exchanging a few soft spoken words before he would retire to his own bedroom. The intimacy of it had made George nervous at first. It felt almost too private, having Dream sit on his bed and mumble tired small talk to him. Not to mention, it was always somewhat tense.

George fiddled with the hem of his shorts, “Sapnap wants-”

“You look good in that shirt.”, Dream interrupted.

“What?”, he looked down at his chest, he was wearing one of Dream’s merch t-shirts. It hung loosely on him, as almost everything did. He looked back up at the other man, so taken aback by the sudden compliment that he feigned to emote any proper response. 

Red lit up Dream’s cheeks in less than a second. He continued, audibly nervous. “I guess because it’s my design”, he laughed stiffly. 

Reveling in having the upper hand nerve-wise for once, and finding comfort in this familiar way of joke-flirting, George quipped back “So it’s the shirt that looks good, not me?”. He fake pouted. 

“No, actually”, Dream quickly blurted out, regaining some confidence in his voice, “I think it looks good because it’s on you”, he paused with a smile, “and big, too. Let me see what size it is...”. Without warning, Dream reached his hand behind George’s neck and under the hem of his collar. George froze, watching as a blond head of hair and squinting eyes leaned over his shoulder. Just like that, Dream shadowed his entire body with his torso. His breath was steady, not at all like George’s suddenly shaky inhale. Dream leaned back, but only just far enough so that big, brown eyes could stare back at him. 

“Uh… Medium” He exhaled.

They sat still like that, for a moment. Dream did not lean back. George did not look away. Instead, gazing into Dream’s blown out, green eyes, he felt those warm rays again. Pressing up against his throat, threatening to suffocate him, devour him until the only thing left of him was an empty vault. George finally understood why he feared Dream’s earnestness; not only did it tear itself up, on display for everyone to see, it threatened to do the same to him. And maybe, for once, he’d let himself be torn apart. 

George opened his lips, “Just fucking kiss me already”.

With a smile, Dream crashed their mouths together. His hand flinging up to cup Georges cheek, the other still holding a firm grip of the base of his neck. A coarse thumb pressed lightly on his Adam’s apple, drawing a sharp inhale from him, prompting the thumb to apply slightly more pressure. George’s hands swiftly dropped his phone, swinging up to interlock in blond hair as he pressed Dream down towards him.

Heavy breathing passed between them, as the urgent movement of their lips and tongues left them both winded. Dream, straddling George’s small frame, moved his hands down under the hem of the shirt, sloppily exploring the smaller man’s chest. George broke from the kiss, prompting a small huff from the other, to take his shirt off. Dream followed suit, pulling his hoodie past his shoulders in a swift motion. George’s gaze landed on his own chest, where Dream’s hand come down to rest.

He paused to take in the scene, breathing heavily. “Jesus- Your hand is like two thirds the size of my torso”. Dream’s eyes widened in realisation, squeezing the skin under his palm, eliciting another quick inhale from George, who looked back up at him with an intoxicated expression. A shit-eating grin planted itself on Dream’s face. He squeezed harder, drawing another small, sudden noise from George. “Is it okay”, he locked eyes with the man underneath him, “If i just fucking wreck you?”. The question made George buck his hips up sharply to meet Dream’s. His skin felt like it was being incinerated by the other’s mere presence. 

“Yes, yes god please just touch me please-”, he stammered as their lips met clumsily once more. He broke it only a few seconds later. “Lube, there’s lube in uh- the drawer.”. Dream looked at him confused. George flushed bright red, “I- I use it on myself, so don’t think I planned for this…”. For a couple of seconds, the man above him looked as if he’d short circuited at the thought. “That’s… something”, he wheezed, before seemingly shaking himself out of it and moving to grab the bottle out the drawer. 

Embarrassed, George helped himself out of his shorts and boxers, while Dream covered his fingers in a generous amount of lube. Satisfied, he took a hold of George’s leg with his free hand and easily lifted it up as to separate the other man’s legs. Cold, wet fingers pressed against George’s asshole, as Dream forced his index finger inside. His other hand moved to palm George’s so far unattended, leaking hard cock, eliciting a filthy noise from the man beneath him. Dream grinned. George couldn’t bear the sight, neediness welling up inside him as Dream worked in a second finger. It wasn’t enough, he just had to be touched more.

“Please, I- I don’t care if I’m prepped enough just- just fuck me”, he pleaded, hands gripping the sheets beneath him.

“Are you sure?”, Dream raised an eyebrow, “You haven’t even seen my dick yet”. George, however, wasn’t hearing any of it, reaching awkwardly to pull down Dream’s sweatpants. He watched with hungry eyes as the larger man’s hard cock sprung up from the waistband. “Is there any part of you that isn’t ginormous?” he heaved. Dream laughed, “I am just proportional”. Lining himself up against his eager partner’s hole, Dream looked down. 

“I’m not going to take it easy on you just because you’re smaller than me”, he smiled, “is that alright?” 

“Yes”, George responded breathlessly, as Dream immediately started pushing himself inside with a deep, rumbling moan. George felt as if he was being torn apart, the slow but forceful movement filling him up in one motion, letting out a high pitched cry. Dream leaned down to catch his lips, softly peppering his mouth with kisses. “You’re so hot like this, George. It’s like you're straight from one of my high school wet dreams”, he mumbled, mouth against mouth still, leaving one last soft peck right on his temple. Then he started moving. 

George felt euphoric as he was slammed into over and over again at a ruthless pace, one moan melting into another until there was just a continuous string of noises emitting from his mouth. He felt so full he could cry. In one swift motion, Dream grabbed a hold of him, pulled out and flipped him onto his stomach. George lost his breath as he hit the mattress, and was robbed of it again when Dream started pounding him straight into the bed. 

The larger man leaned forward and kissed George’s neck, hands pinning down his thin wrists from above. “So fucking good for me, so tight”. George cried into the mattress in response, as every nerve in his body lit up. “Cum inside me, C-Clay”, George sobbed. Dream groaned and reached in front of the other to grab his leaking erection, pumping it in rhythm to the movement of his hips. “Fuck”, he exhaled, building himself closer to release. When the wet of George’s cum hit his hand, he let himself go as well, riding out his orgasm with slower and slower motions whilst stroking George’s flaccid cock. 

Exhausted, Dream pulled out and hit the mattress next to George, pulling him in close despite the mess. “Maybe you should sleep in my bed tonight, yours is kind of sticky for some reason”, he cooed. 

George snorted, pressing his face to Dream’s chest. He felt known.Consumed. And, for once, it felt good.


End file.
